Teenage Dream: Sam's Taking Care of Himself
by jlbassmaster
Summary: Sam begins to notice he has strange feelings for new student Rory Flanagan. Feelings that can only be explored in a fantasy. Rated M for mature.


**Teenage Dream: Sam's Taking Care of Himself**

_Author's Notes: I had a Rory fantasy one shot, and now it's time for Sam! I wrote this more because I forgot my latest updates to Trouty Mouth/Leprechaun and was still in a writing mode. This is a repost and you may have seen it already! Adult content!_

Sam sat in the back of the choir room, anxious to hear his club-mate's next performance. Since returning to McKinley, he had discovered a lot of things had changed. Santana came out of the closet, Brittany was Senior Class President, Blaine transferred from Dalton, Mercedes was seeing someone, Sugar had joined the New Directions even though she sang very badly, and the most curious of additions was a young man with the most striking blue eyes and heavenly voice Sam had ever heard.

Sure, Sam had dated girls all his life. He even had sex with a couple of them. A lot of sex with one in particular, who now was a lesbian, but that was a totally different affair. The point is that Sam never once considered the fact that he might find men attractive. In fact, the very idea was absurd. He was muscular, a total jock, had no fashion sense, and pretty much no game at all. He was everything a straight guy should be.

So why was it that when this new boy, with this deep Irish accent, an excellent vocal range, and these gorgeous eyes was suddenly so attractive to him? He had first met Rory upon returning in time for sectionals, and had befriended him quickly. He felt like an outsider, returning halfway through the semester, and Rory was just as much looking in from the outside. They had an immediate bond, and when Rory was faced with the fate of spending the holidays alone, Sam offered him comfort and a welcoming invitation to spend it with his family.

While they had spent the week together hanging out, Sam started to notice things that he didn't notice before. Things that straight boys shouldn't notice. Things like the waistband of Rory's underwear and how it always poked just a tiny bit above his jeans, or how tight his jeans hugged his rear when he bent down. He noticed how his eyebrows would dance when he sang, bringing all the more attention to his eyes.

Oh yes, his eyes. Rory had eyes so blue that they rivaled the ocean itself, and whenever Sam could steal a glance at them, he would. It was his eyes that entranced Sam so very much, the beautiful blue eyes that begged for him to dive in and swim around inside the head of the plucky Irish boy. It was those eyes that Sam was lost in at that very moment.

As Rory stood in front of the students and sang, Sam couldn't help but stare into his deep blue eyes, daring himself not to get caught. Rory was seeing Sugar for the time being, and he knew that whatever his feelings were, Rory would not be returning them.

Later that night, as Sam lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, he started to think about Rory again. Sweet, pure, innocent Rory. See, what was different with Rory was the fact that when Sam thought about him, he didn't necessarily jump to thoughts of ravaging him sexually the way he would think about women. No, instead he would dream of something much more romantic. Something that he thought was supposed to be saved for a special woman he loved, but not for a friend, especially a male friend.

Sam started to drift into sleep, finally losing himself into a dream. In his dream, he stepped down from the choir room chair and took Rory by the hand, and in front of everyone, asked him to go out with him. Rory said yes, excitement in those beautiful ocean blue eyes.

The scene shifted almost instantly. In the dream, Sam had made dinner for their date. They were in a mansion of some sort – the kind from the Batman movies; all gothic and dark and filled with mystery. They sat at a large table, candle lit in the middle, several plates of delicious food in front of both of them, tall glasses of wine in their hands, despite being underage.

Both of them were in tuxedos, Rory's trimmed with shades of emerald, and his own in shades of sapphire. His hair was slicked back and he spoke in a soft southern accent while every word that Rory spoke was heavy with his Irish dialect.

The dream couple finished their dinner and Sam led his partner to the living room, in front of a roaring fire in the fireplace. They sat on a large leather sofa, their legs touching. They were making some sort of idle chatter, the kind that is incoherent in a dream. Finally, they locked eyes and Sam was entranced by his young friend.

Rory leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Sam's thick lips. He kissed him again and again, each peck just as gentle as the last. When the finally locked lips for longer, Sam could taste his very being coming from his mouth. He tasted of mint, and smelled of a cologne Sam couldn't name, but knew he recognized.

Sam reached up to caress the boy's cheek with the back of his hand, and pulled him closer. Their touches were still gentle, careful, but not apprehensive. The scene shifted again and they were sitting on the bear skin rug in front of the fire, wearing only their underwear – black briefs for them both. Sam ran his fingertips up and down the side of Rory's outstretched leg, sending chills up the young man's spine. Sam's every touch was gentle, almost as if he was afraid he might hurt the boy but at the same time, didn't want to miss a chance to bring him pleasure.

Rory lay back in Sam's arms, allowing the older teen to slowly, sensually, removed the underwear from him – sliding them down from his waist and to his feet, where Rory kicked them off, the black fabric landing across the room. He was fully exposed to Sam now, and while his cheeks were flushed with modesty, his body showed no shyness.

Sam did not ravage the boy as most would expect in a dream. Instead, he held him close and kissed him again, his hands still running up and down his body, brushing against Rory's side, his chest, his leg. Never did he touch anything remotely sexual. It was purely _sensual_.

"Sam, I want you to touch me, so very badly," Rory stated breathlessly as his lover started to plant kisses leading from his neck, down his chest, and closer and closer to his forbidden fruit. When Sam's lips reached just above Rory's nest of pubic hair, the man paused, and started to kiss around him – the insides of his thighs, around his abdomen. Everywhere except his genitals. It was like he was teasing while at the same time trying to keep it romantic.

"Please, touch me, Sam. I want you to touch me like that," Rory instructed, taking Sam's hand and placing it directly on his half-erect penis. It felt so real. It felt the perfect size, not too thick, and not too long. In reality, Sam had taken his own stiffening member into his hand, his body asleep but his mind racing with lustful thoughts.

Sam caressed Rory's penis until it became completely firm, actually throbbing in his hand. While he gripped the trembling erection, he continued to plant kisses along the boy's chest, stopping over each nipple to make a very tender nibble – just enough to send waves of sensations leading right down to his most private of areas.

In his bed, Sam tweaked his own nipples with his free hand, the other latched onto his stiffened member. Behind his eyelids he saw Rory biting his bottom lip, heard his whimpers.

"Please, Sam, I want you, very bad," Rory whispered. Sam smiled at him, kindly, his eyes telling Rory to be patient, that there was more to come. Sam's hand continued to stroke Rory's erection, while he used his other hand to start caressing the fragile orbs that hung below. He massaged them, kneaded them. Slowly, but surely, Sam ended up with his hand trailing down between Rory's cheeks.

Back in the comfort of his bed, Sam's hand reached between his own cheeks, brushing a finger along the tight pucker there. It was a place he had never explored before, but his hands were thinking for themselves, mimicking what he was doing in the dream to his own body instead of Rory's.

Dream Rory whimpered lightly as Sam teased his opening. He pulled his hand back long enough to slather it in spit, using it as a poor substitute for lube. He pressed against him, pushing until the tender muscle gave way, letting him slide his finger inside.

Sam's finger was sliding inside his own virgin hole, an entirely new sensation he had never felt before. It was even more amazing since he was in a half-sleep. With every push inside of Rory, he pushed inside himself.

"Sam, I want more of you," Rory pleaded. He grabbed Sam's wrist and pulled his finger in deeper. "More fingers." Sam obliged him and worked a second finger inside the boy and inside himself. "_More,_ Sam."

"More?" Sam asked, his subconscious hesitant as it wasn't sure his real physical body could handle that.

"_More,"_ Rory said firmly. And so, with his demand, Sam plunged a third finger inside, sending shivers through Rory – shivers that echoed through his own body as he felt himself opening up wider and wider.

While Sam fingered the teen, he made use of his other hand and began to slowly stroke him, licking droplets of precum from his fingertips between strokes. The speed was agonizingly slow.

"How long are you going to torture me like this?" Rory pleaded. "You're making me so horny."

Sam grinned. "I have plenty more in store for you, now that you're my boyfriend."

"I am?" Rory asked, Sam squeezing his dick harder as he stroked. "Yeah, I am."

"Since you're my boyfriend, there's so much more pleasure I want with you. So much more I want to explore," Sam breathed.

The conscious part of his mind let the very same words slip from his lips so quietly that his roommates would never have heard him. With every stroke of Rory's dick, he stroked his own, wishing it was the Irish boy in his fist instead.

"What do you want to do first?" Rory asked nervously.

Sam whispered into his ear. "I want to suck you. I want to wrap my lips around you and taste you."

Rory shivered as the words resonated in his head. Sam removed his fingers from his trembling hole and moved his head down toward Rory's crotch. He could smell the intoxicating scent of a clean boy, burying his nose in his bush, inhaling deeply. Sam moaned as the scent invaded him and drove him crazy.

Back in the real world, Sam was running his fingers through his blonde bush, drops of precum dampening the thick nest. That moist thicket soon transformed into Rory's, and in his dream, Sam wrapped his thick lips around Rory's dick, and took him completely in his mouth. The teen elicited a loud moan at the sudden sensations tingling through his body.

While his hand was nowhere near as good as a pair of wet lips bobbing up and down his thick shaft, it would have to do. Dream Sam deep throated the Irish teenager, making him swear in words not in English, but deep guttural words that said the universal command: _more._

When Sam was close, in his dream he stopped sucking, not wanting Rory co go off too soon. His mind was blurring between reality and fantasy as his mind was losing sight of what parts of the vision was really occurring, and what parts were going on in the dream. Was that Sam's hand on himself, or was it Rory's? Was Sam sucking the teen's cock, or was he just stroking himself and imagining it? It didn't matter.

"Sam…" Rory whispered, pulling Sam's chin up toward him. "Fuck me. Fuck me good and hard."

Sam's dream had begun romantic, slow, passionate, but suddenly there was a change in Rory. He was no longer the innocent, timid and shy boy that Sam watched in the choir room. Now he was a horny young man who was letting his desires overcome him. He was giving in to his wild side as he begged his older friend to take him, and not just take him, but be rough with him.

Rory stood up, taking Sam's hand and leading him over to the leather couch. They kissed for several minutes, far too long for either of them to keep up with something as inconsequential as time. Their hands roamed over each other's bodies. Sam grabbed Rory's ass with reckless abandon, squeezing, kneading. With every touch, it was like their dicks became harder and harder.

When he had enough, Rory stepped back, turned around, and bent over the arm of the couch, his ass sticking up in the air. "Now, Sam. Fuck me. Fuck me good and hard."

These were words Rory would never use in reality. He never even swore, so hearing these foreign vulgarities flowing from the innocent mouth was all the more of a turn on.

Sam obliged his demands, kneeling down to spit on Rory's begging hole. He pushed his face forward and buried it between the soft cheeks, his tongue tickling over the virgin opening. The teen began to moan loudly as Sam gave him a tongue lashing, getting him nice and slick for the impending penetration.

The tall blonde stood next to Rory's head, grabbed him by the hair, and forced him onto his cock. "Get it good and wet. You'll be glad you did," Sam said.

Back in the bedroom, Sam was sucking his fingers, teasing his own hole with his fingertips, back and forth from one to the other with one hand, the other hand stroking his throbbing cock. Considering he was partially unconscious, he was managing an awful lot of sexual pleasure on himself.

Rory choked on Sam's big dick, the older boy pulling his face into his crotch roughly, grinding his hips and bucking. "That's real good. Better than any girl," Sam complimented. He was bucking so fast he was effectively fucking Rory's face, the teen struggling to maintain himself.

Sam felt close, too close. He pulled his dick out of the Irishman's mouth and kneeled down to kiss him. "Good job. Now I'm going to do to you what I would only do with my boyfriend. Nobody else. Just you. Are you ready?"

Rory was still catching his breath but managed to croak out a simple 'yes'. He felt Sam standing behind him, felt the thick head poking at his hole. And then he felt intense pain as Sam pushed himself all the way inside.

The younger teen howled, but the cries very quickly turned to begging pleasure as Sam never stopped thrusting in and out. With every thrust, Rory felt like his insides were being torn apart, but he only wanted more. More of Sam, more of his huge cock, more of his rough thrusting. He wanted him with every fiber of his being.

In the bed, Sam was stroking himself with both hands, squeezing, stroking, squeezing, stroking. It was the closest he could get to having Rory's ass. Back on the couch, the boy was squirming in ecstasy as his butt was pounded relentlessly. Sam pulled his arms behind him and held his wrists, keeping Rory from touching himself.

"I'm going to fuck the cum right out of you," Sam growled, both in and outside of his dream.

Rory moaned loudly. "Please Sam, I can't take anymore!"

"Yeah you can. Come on, not much longer," Sam urged. He was getting close.

"Please..." Rory whimpered, feeling himself getting closer as well. He felt Sam speed up, faster, harder. He thrust himself in deep, slamming into Rory's pleasure spot so hard it was about to burst. Sam pumped with lightning speed, and finally his cock hit just enough to send Rory crashing over the edge, loads of hot, sticky seed splattering down the side of the leather couch, his legs trembling, his muscles tensing up, toes curling, ass tightening up. He let out such a primal moan that it sent Sam over the edge as well.

Sam sprayed his own load deep inside the teen, his moans gutteral and deep. His final thrusts were so hard it caused Rory to go into overdrive, just a few more spasms left in him.

The orgasm in reality was just as good as Sam's hands pumped his cock so hard it hurt. When he finally exploded, it shot like a geyser, splattering on hie abs, chest, past his chin and even into his mouth. His groans matched the ones from his dream, far too loudly.

As Sam collapsed back on the floor in his dream, looking up, he saw strings of his seed running between Rory's reddened cheeks. When he finally regained his strength, he stood up, took the boy in his arms, and kissed him. He pulled him back onto the couch so they were laying in comfort once again, snuggling, cuddling, their urges sated, and their romantic, more reserved personalities flooding back into their heads.

Sam heard a knock at the door. "Uh dude, you alright in there?" It was Finn's voice that snapped sam 100% out of his dream.

"Oh shit, uhm yeah man, I'm good," Sam replied hurriedly. He heard the knob turn, sheard footsteps.

"Oh fuck, man, dude, uh sorry!" Finn said, his eyes widening in shock. "My bad, I didn't realize you were, yeah you were just loud and I thought something was wrong, and I wanted to make sure you were okay. Yeah I'm just gonna go now."

"It's okay. I didn't mean to wake anybody. I'm kind of embarassed."

"Nah, don't worry about it dude. Hey, I'll toss you a towel," Finn offered, trying to ease the tension. He came back in and tossed Sam the towel, strangely enough, watching him clean up. "So uh, can I ask you something?"

Sam shrugged, sitting up and wiping down his chest.

"Uh you got some uh... yeah on your bottom lip..." Finn stuttered, alerting Sam that he still had cum on his mouth. The embarassed teen quickly wiped his mouth.

"Your question...?" Sam urged.

Finn shrugged and then mustered the courage to ask what he was waiting to know. "Oh yeah, uh... why were you moaning Rory Flanagan's name?"


End file.
